


Dragon Age Drabbles

by phoenixquest



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 23:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: A few drabbles from the Dragon Age universe that I'm pulling over from Tumblr, just in case. Each chapter title will be the pairing!





	1. m!Hawke/Fenris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon regarding Fenris' "I am yours" dialogue in Act 3 :)

“I am yours,” Fenris murmurs breathlessly, cuddling in Hawke’s embrace. He feels safe, he feels loved; it’s new to him but he can’t get enough. Hawke chuckles.

“Fenris, you don’t belong to anyone, love,” Garrett reminds him. “I didn’t just say that to piss off Danarius.”

“I want to belong to you,” Fenris said, and he turns to glance up at Hawke, his gaze shy as it always is when he says these personal things. Still not entirely sure Hawke will accept it, will not simply mock him. He’s concerned as he sees Hawke frown.

“I don’t own you,” Hawke says softly. “I don’t want to. I – “

“Not like that,” Fenris explains. He feels his face redden slightly – it’s so new to be forward like this – but he continues, he has to explain, even if it sounds silly. “I want to be yours…in here.” He presses his fingers lightly against Hawke’s bare chest, right over the man’s heart. He can feel it beating rapidly, still excited from sex. Hawke smiles again.

“You’ve always belonged in my heart, love,” Hawke assures him. “Never doubt that.”

“Then allow me to have that,” Fenris says determinedly. “I…am yours.” Hawke grins, bending his neck to kiss the elf.

“All right,” Hawke agrees. “Under one condition.”

“Hmm?” Fenris asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“I get to be yours, too,” Hawke states. Fenris smiles – really smiles, one of the few times Hawke has ever seen it, and his heart thuds harder for a moment.

“I suppose so,” Fenris concedes, the smile feeling strange on his face, but he can’t stop it. He doesn’t want to.


	2. Jane Hawke & Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple cute drabbles about getting Anders to understand "I love you"!

“Would you tell the world, the Knight-Commander, that you love an apostate and you will stand beside him?”

Anders sounded incredulous, disbelieving. As though Jane Hawke couldn’t possibly mean what he wanted her to mean. As though she was out of her mind if she did. As though he almost wanted her to deny it.

“I would shout it from the very rooftops,” Jane said, an earnest tone behind her smile. “I would paint it on the Knight-Commander’s door. I would steal her knickers and write ‘Hawke Loves Anders’ on them all if it would please you.” Anders laughed outright, and so did she.

“Well, I won’t say I wouldn’t enjoy that,” Anders told her, and he sounded happier than she’d ever heard him. “But I don’t think you have to go quite so far.”

“Well,” Jane said, grinning at him, “if you ever change your mind, let me know. I think I could get Isabela on board, too.” Anders shook his head, still not quite believing what he was hearing, but thoroughly amused all the same. “I love you, Anders,” Jane said softly. “I have loved you for a long time. You’re not going to scare me off by asking me to publicly declare it. I would do that and more, if you asked.”

“I love you, too, Jane,” Anders murmured, bringing a hand up to gently caress her cheek. He stared into her blue eyes just for a moment before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. For one short moment in time, her lips against his was all that mattered.

* * *

Anders sat, shoulders hunched, facing away from Jane Hawke. Waiting for the inevitable. He had given her the perfect opportunity; she was going to kill him, and didn’t even have to look at him. He deserved no better.

He expected the pressure on his back; he knew he’d feel the knife.

What he didn’t expect was that the force of her hit would send him sprawling to the ground, or that he wouldn’t even feel the knife entering his back.

“Hawke?” he choked out as she landed on top of him, tears in her eyes. There was no knife to be seen.

“How dare you?” Hawke raged, choking out the words in tearful fury. “How dareyou expect me to kill you? How could you even think to put such a thing on my shoulders, you bastard?”

“But – “ Anders said, bewildered. “I thought – “

“Andraste’s flaming knickers, Anders!” Hawke shouted, a tear falling onto his cheek from her face. “Do you not understand three simple words? I love you does not mean ‘until you piss me off’. It does not mean ‘until you do something stupid.’ It also does not mean ‘I will abandon you the first chance I get.’ I love you means I LOVE YOU, you great stupid mage!” And with that, she pinned him down and kissed him more deeply than she ever had in their relationship.

Without any idea what else to do, he kissed her back. He was utterly confused; surely she wasn’t about to let him live? Not after this. No one would.

“Jane,” he breathed as she pulled back long enough to angrily dash her hand across her cheek, catching only a few tears while the rest still fell. He reached up to help, gently brushing her cheek with his thumb. “I don’t…I don’t understand. No one…”

“You idiot,” she spat through her sobs. “What in all of Thedas made you think I could kill you?”

“But…” Anders stopped, paused for a moment, trying to make sense of any of this. “Jane. I…I blew up the Chantry.”

“Yes, you idiot mage, and you couldn’t even let me help you!” Jane snapped. “Don’t you think I’d do anything for you? Do you really not understand this?” She got to her feet then, glaring challengingly at everyone standing around them. “I LOVE ANDERS!” she cried, the sound ripped from her chest like an oath. “I love him and I will stand beside this apostate until the day we perish! Do you hear me, Meredith?” she screamed in the direction the Knight-Commander had walked off. “I LOVE HIM!” Still sobbing, hardly noticing her friends’ bewildered faces, she turned back to Anders, held out her hand, and hauled him to his feet. “Do you believe me now?” she choked desperately. “Do you believe, now that I’ve told the Knight-Commander, that I love you, and I will stand by you for good?” Anders stared at her, mouth agape.

“I’m still willing to raid her knickers,” Isabela volunteered. Jane couldn’t help an amazed laugh – it was just like Isabela to remember such a thing at such a time.

“You actually told her that?” Anders asked Hawke, shocked. “I thought you were joking.”

“Clearly!” Jane said harshly. “Clearly, you think I’ve always been joking. I’ve meant it, Anders, I’ve meant every word I’ve said. It’s time you understood it!” They stood, staring at one another, for a long time. Hawke with angry desperation, Anders with confusion and amazement.

“I don’t mean to put a damper on what will make an excellent story,” Varric piped up, “but we need to get moving, Hawke.”

“Right,” Jane said, wiping her eyes angrily again. “We’re going to fight the Templars. Who’s coming?”

“I am,” Anders said, his voice quiet instead of ringing with certainty like she expected. He stepped up to her side, tentatively taking her hand and looking questioningly at her. She squeezed his hand tightly in her own.

“Obvious, but good to know anyway,” she said dryly. Despite her words, she was glad of his firm statement, his hand in her own. She was going to have words with him later; they needed to discuss trust, they needed to discuss what he’d done, they needed to discuss everything. But for that moment, they were both alive, and that was good enough to get them through until then.


	3. m!Hawke/Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> antivan-poetry on tumblr posted: "I really need emotionally unstable Hawke hugging Anders firmly and never letting him go please help" and I wrote this for them :)

“I…I’m sorry. Grace used blood magic to hold him. There’s no other way to wake him up.” Hawke couldn’t stop trembling, and hearing the words “blood magic” in reference to his mage chilled him.

“Just…do it,” Hawke begged, his voice hoarse. He wasn’t even sure how he’d just made it through the fight; fear for Anders consumed him utterly. He watched as the nervous mage cut his hand, using whatever magic it took to undo the spell holding Anders. The golden-brown eyes fluttered open, looking disoriented.

“What in Andraste’s name…?” he mumbled, but before he could even finish the sentence, he was pulled into a crushing hug by a strong pair of arms.

“Anders,” Hawke choked. “Anders, I’m so sorry.”

“Wha – Hawke?” Anders asked, dazed. “What’s going on?”

“They t-took you,” Hawke sobbed, wet tears falling onto the mage’s neck. “They took you, and they used blood magic on you, and I can’t lose you, I can’t, I’m so sorry…”

“Hey,” Anders said, still feeling disoriented, though the memory of what had happened was coming back to him now. He managed to pull an arm free from Hawke’s fierce grip, bringing his hand up to stroke Hawke’s hair. “It’s all right, love. I’m fine.” Fine might have been a bit of an overstatement, it was true; he ached, and even Justice felt groggy. But he wasn’t hurt.

“Can’t lose you,” Hawke went on, still trembling and hardly able to put words together. “Mother…Carver…Bethany…no…”

“Hawke,” Anders said firmly. “I’m perfectly all right.” He couldn’t deny how much he was enjoying the possessiveness of the hug, however. “Relax.”

“I won’t let them get you, not ever again,” Hawke sniffled. “I swear it, Anders. I swear.”

“Thank you,” Anders murmured, running his fingers soothingly through the rogue’s hair. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t care,” Hawke hiccupped, clinging to the mage like a lifeline. “I’m never letting you go, Anders. Never.” Anders managed a small chuckle.

“Might get a bit wet out here if it rains,” he commented.

“I don’t care,” Hawke said fiercely. “Never.”

“All right,” Anders said, secretly pleased as he let a bit of a smile come over his face. He rested his head against Hawke’s, marveling at feeling so completely loved. “You won’t have to, love.”


	4. Anders/reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a migraine, and wrote this about Anders taking care of you while you're dealing with one :) Modern setting.

“Here, love,” Anders says softly as he puts you to bed, covering you loosely so you can adjust as needed. “Just rest.”

“There’s so much I need to get done, though,” you groan, the thought making your head pound even worse. The migraine is already making you nauseated.

“I’ll take care of it,” Anders promises, kissing your forehead. “You need to lie here and be comfortable.” He hands you your eye mask, letting you cover up even the little light that’s in the room. You feel the bed sink down as he climbs in next to you. You hear him fiddling with his phone for a moment, and then a soft, barely-audible but peaceful music hits your ears. He knows you can’t stand the silence, but anything loud would make everything worse.

“You always know just how to take care of me,” you sigh gratefully.

“That’s because I love you,” Anders murmurs. “Try to relax, love.” The next thing you feel is his hand on your forehead, chilled with ice magic.

“Mmm,” you breathe. “Perfect.” You can feel the gentle pulse of healing through his fingers as well, the healer doing his best to make you feel better. The gentle music lets you relax, and then his free hand is gently stroking your arm, his touch wonderfully soothing as always. Despite the pain coursing through your head and stomach, you feel loved and cared for. You know he’ll always be there for you, even when you’re not at your best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (“What are you doing?” he demands, coming in to find you messing around on your computer instead of resting. “You should be lying down!”
> 
> “I know,” you reply sheepishly. “But…internet…”)


	5. Marian Hawke/Fenris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hair-stroking. Inspired by a tumblr post.

The pair of warriors were relaxing contentedly on the sofa, Marian Hawke sitting with her feet propped up on an ottoman and Fenris with his head in her lap. She was clad in her house robes, while he only wore his comfortable trousers. His white hair was splayed loosely over her legs, her fingers gently combing through it.

“I love your longer hair,” Marian murmured. “It’s beautiful like this. And so soft.” She ensured that herself, really; insisting on spoiling him with her own fine toiletries.

“You’re biased,” Fenris smirked, though he enjoyed the compliment nonetheless.

Danarius always wanted it kept short - it was far easier to care for that way, and extra grooming time for a slave was unheard of. Fenris kept it that way while on the run – he liked to say it was because he didn’t have the time to bother with it while he was trying to hide, but there was a small part of him that did it because he still didn’t truly see himself as a free man, not yet. The tiny voice in the back of his mind, telling him he’d be recaptured one day.

Marian’s voice had won out over that one, finally.

“I probably am,” Marian agreed with a laugh. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

Fenris hummed in an amused way, then closed his eyes as Marian’s fingers began to scratch lightly at his scalp. The feeling of her fingernails on his head was pleasantly relaxing. It wasn’t something he was used to, but she’d told him before that she was determined to get him used to it, because he deserved it.

As her fingers moved through his long hair, pulling out to the very ends with the gentlest tugging sensation, he decided it was definitely something he wouldn’t mind getting used to.


	6. Merrill/Isabela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "curiosity at first sight" from calligraphypenn - I chose Isabela/Merrill because I love themmmm.

Merrill followed Hawke into the tavern, feeling slightly anxious. She hadn’t yet met most of Hawke’s friends, and she still felt like she’d made a bit of a fool of herself upon meeting a few of them in the first place. Hawke was insistent that Merrill should make more friends, though – said it would make her feel more at home in the city. Merrill had to agree.

“Hey, Daisy, Hawke!” Varric called, waving them over upon seeing them. Merrill recognized two at the table, but there were a few unfamiliar ones as well. Her eyes roved over them all, finally landing on one that almost took her breath away.

The woman had dark hair, pulled back into a scrap of cloth, and dark skin as well. Merrill had seen humans before – plenty of them by now, really. But she’d never seen one so beautiful. The woman chuckled, grinning at her, and Merrill realized she was staring. She blushed and looked quickly away.

“This is Merrill,” Hawke announced to the table in general. “Merrill, you already met Varric and Carver; this is Anders, Fenris, and Isabela,” Hawke added, pointing out the others and finishing with the one Merrill found so intriguing.

“Er…hello!” Merrill said, realizing too late she sounded a bit too enthusiastic. Another chuckle from the dark-haired woman made her blush even more deeply, determinedly keeping her eyes averted.

“Hello, kitten,” the woman named Isabela purred, sending a shiver through Merrill. “Come sit by me.” There was some amused scoffing around the table, but Merrill found the voice so lovely she couldn’t help but obey it.

“Thank you, Isabela,” Merrill managed graciously, her words coming out quickly as though she couldn’t control them. “You’re very kind. Are those daggers?” she added curiously, glancing at the six or so blades she could see on the woman. “They’re beautiful. Why do you have so many?” Isabela laughed.

“You never know,” she replied mysteriously.

“And that is lovely,” Merrill continued, unable to stop herself now that she had an excuse to stare at the beautiful woman. She motioned to the bit of jewelry in Isabela’s lip. “I’ve never seen one like that before. Doesn’t it hurt when you eat?”

“Curious little kitten, aren’t you?” Isabela grinned; a few of the others laughed.

“Sorry,” Merrill muttered, looking away. “I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“I rather like your rambling,” Isabela replied, a seductive note to her voice that Merrill couldn’t figure out whether it was intentional or not. Looking up at the woman cautiously, she saw that Isabela seemed quite sincere, though.

“Rivaini, she’s been here less than a minute, don’t pounce,” Varric chuckled. Isabela laughed in response, but gave Merrill a quick wink before looking away to converse with the rest of the table.

Merrill fell into the conversation easily enough after a while, and though she didn’t say much else to the beautiful Isabela, she very much wanted a chance to talk to her again.


End file.
